Sorceress of Darshiva

really."
    "Perhaps not," Poledra told him, "but you're the only one who can do it."
    "I'll be ready when the time comes, Poledra."
    Then the tawny-haired woman looked again at Belgarath. "Now I think it's finally time for you and me to have that little talk you've been avoiding since our daughters were born," she said very firmly.
    The old man started.
    "In private," she added. "Come with me."
    "Yes, Poledra," he replied meekly.
    Purposefully she walked toward the gate of the farmstead with Belgarath trailing behind her like a schoolboy anticipating a scolding—or worse.
    "At last," Polgara sighed with relief.
    "What's going on, Lady Polgara?" Ce'Nedra asked in a baffled little voice.
    "My mother and father are going to be reconciled," Polgara replied happily. ' 'My mother died—or perhaps didn't— when my sister Beldaran and I were born. My father always blamed himself because he wasn't there to help her. He and Bear-shoulders and the others had gone to Cthol Mishrak to steal the Orb back from Torak. Mother never blamed him because she knew how important what they were doing was. Father doesn't forgive himself that easily, however, and he's been punishing himself about it for all these centuries. Mother's finally gotten tired of it, so she's going to take steps to correct the situation."
    "Oh," Ce'Nedra said with that odd little catch in her voice. "That's just beautiful." Her eyes filled with sudden tears.
    Wordlessly, Velvet drew a flimsy little bit of a handkerchief from her sleeve, dabbed at her own eyes, then passed it to Ce'Nedra.
    It was perhaps an hour later when Belgarath returned. He was alone, but there was a gentle smile on his face and a youthful twinkle in his eye. No one saw fit to ask him any questions. "What time of night would you say it is?" he asked Durnik.
    The smith squinted up at the sky where the last remnants of cloud were being swept off to the east by the prevailing wind to reveal the stars. "I'd guess about two hours until first light, Belgarath," he replied. "The breeze has come up, and it sort of smells like morning."
    "I don't think we'll get any more sleep tonight," the old man said. "Why don't we load the packs and saddle the horses while Pol fixes some of those eggs for breakfast?"
    Polgara looked at him with a slightly raised eyebrow.
    "You weren't planning to let us leave without feeding us first, were you, Pol?" he asked her roguishly.
    "No, father," she said, "as a matter of fact, I wasn't."
    "I didn't think so." Then he laughed and threw his arms about her. "Oh, my Pol," he said exuberantly.
    Ce'Nedra's eyes filled with tears again, and Velvet reached for her handkerchief once more.
    "Between them, they're going to wear that little thing out," Silk noted clinically.
    "That's all right," Garion replied. "I've got a couple of spares in my pack." Then he remembered something. ‘‘Grandfather," he said, "in all the excitement, I almost forgot something. Before she changed into the dragon, I heard Zandramas talking with Naradas."
    "Oh?"
    "He's been in Gandahar and he's taking a regiment of elephant cavalry to the battlefield."
    "That won't matter very much to the demons."
    "The demons aren't there any more. Zandramas raised another Demon Lord—Mordja, his name is—and he's managed to lure Nahaz away from the battlefield. They've gone off someplace else to fight."
    Belgarath scratched at one bearded cheek. "Just how is that elephant cavalry out of Gandahar?" he asked.
    "Pretty close to invincible," Silk replied. "They drape them in chain mail, and they trample wide paths through opposing armies. If the demons have left the field, Urvon's army hasn't got a chance.''
    "There are too many people involved in this race anyway," Belgarath grunted. "Let's get across the Magan and leave all these armies to their own devices."
    They ate breakfast and rode out from the farmstead as the first light of dawn began to creep slowly up out of the eastern horizon. Oddly, Garion felt no particular weariness despite a night significantly short on sleep. A great deal had happened since the sun had gone down, and he had much to think about. The sun had risen when they reached the great River Magan. Then, following Toth's gestured directions, they rode slowly southward, looking for a village where they might find a boat large enough to carry them across to Darshiva. The day was warm, and the grass and trees had all been washed clean by the previous night's storm.
    They came to a small settlement of